Scars & Souvenirs
by PossibleIdeasAreLimitless
Summary: The scars that fade – and the memories that won't – are the souvenirs that keep her wondering if she'll ever be strong enough to accept their significance in the person she is and wants to become.


This title was given to a different story of mine, but I felt that it applied better to this one instead. The other story is now entitled_Decisions Made for Love. _

This is my first decidedly Caskett story, so please let me know what you think. :)

Hope you enjoy!

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><p><strong>Scars and Souvenirs <strong>

Kate didn't understand what was happening. She was standing behind the podium giving her eulogy about her beloved captain, turning slightly to share a look of companionship with her partner, and the next thing she knew, she was being tackled to the ground. The unmistakable sound of a bullet leaving its barrel resounded throughout the cemetery, and along with it was Castle's urgent shout of "Kate!"

At first, she just couldn't breathe. The shock of it all had numbed the pain. Panicked voices were muffled as though positioned behind a thick sheet of plate glass, separating them from her. Castle's face, twisted in fear and worry, hovered above hers. His eyes barely contained the tears welling within them. He shed his coat to apply pressure to her chest and suddenly the world came back into focus.

Pain like she had never felt before coursed through her every nerve. She wanted to cry out – to give this pain a voice so that the exertion of a shout will lessen its hold, but it seemed to have stolen that ability from her. She was forced instead to close within herself, burying the pain inside and increasing its strength.

The fearful screams of everyone present were finally heard full force, escalating the panic that was already surging monumentally. Their terror seeped into her already stressed nerves and made her pulse race ever faster. Bright crimson blood gushed from her wound, soaking the garment held there by Castle, whom was desperately pleading for her to stay with him. And she wanted to stay. She fought as best as she could against the throbbing ache making its way throughout every inch of her, imbedding itself into her core and forming a seemingly permanent residence. Her vision began to cloud as shadows formed around the edges.

She tried to focus on Castle's voice. It made her heart twinge at how anxious and distraught he sounded; she wanted to reach up and brush his hair out of his face and tell him that everything would be all right. But she knew it would be a lie. She could already feel the slow beating of her heart begin to weaken even more. She couldn't hold on any longer.

His whispered confession of his love for her was the last thing she heard before her world faded into darkness. . .

Kate's eyes flew open, only to be greeted by more darkness. Her hand shook as she reached for her heart. Its thumping was painful against her ribcage; yet, although uncomfortable, it was strong and healthy. Her fingers brushed over where the bullet pierced her skin almost a year ago. The small, closed-up hole was only the start of another scar that outlined one of her ribs and stopped at her side. The surgical blade that cut her open to save her life had been sharp enough to only leave a thin, white scar upon her creamy skin, but it was a scar nonetheless. She still wasn't sure how she felt about it. Did it define her strength – her inability to surrender her life, though it was teetering dangerously between two worlds? Or was it a reminder of how vulnerable she was to the criminals she faced every day, taunting her in her subconscious mind that even she could still fall with one well placed shot. She couldn't decide.

She closed her eyes and listened to the rhythmic breathing of the sleeping figure beside her to try and calm her nerves, but there was something different about his pace. Then she felt him shift as his arm slid around her stomach to pull her closer to him. His voice, husky from sleep, murmured in her ear, "The dream again?" She nodded, closing her eyes and relaxing into him. Already the fear of her dream was lessening. "He can't get to you anymore, Kate."

"I know." And she did know. She just didn't understand why the dream kept coming back. Her devoted team hadn't ceased in trying to figure out whom it was that had almost taken one of their own, even though Gates had ordered them to set aside her case. But Kate had been right when she told her new captain that the people working on her case were not her. It was Kate after all whom found the critical piece of evidence to lead them to her sniper, though she must admit that she couldn't have caught him without the dedication and support of her team. But that was six months ago and it had almost been a year since her shooting.

"I think because it's so close to the anniversary," she said into the darkness.

"Mm," he said knowingly and pressed his lips to her bare shoulder. Her eyes closed at his touch.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked lightly.

She was silent for a while, watching the dawn begin to creep into their room. She still wasn't very good about sharing her feelings, and she knew he would wait for her answer no matter how long it took. Her sessions with Dr. Burke were helping, letting her explore within herself and try to sort out the chaos of emotions she kept locked inside. Little by little she began to release a few of them, finally giving in to the intense feelings for her partner that had been growing ever so much stronger in the past year. It was a struggle, still was, actually, but ever since his confession of love for her as she lay dying in his arms, she wanted to become the woman that he deserved: open and willing.

"My scars are finally fading," she finally said in a voice barely above a whisper. "And yet the memories of that day are as vivid as if it was only a few hours ago." She wrapped her arms over his, as his were still tangled around her middle, and he responded by hugging her even closer to him, her back to his chest.

"Those memories won't just go away, Kate," he said into her hair. His warm breath so close to her ear sent teasing shivers throughout her body. "They're the souvenirs that make us who we are and who we choose to be."

She smiled. Always the writer. She loved the way he could melt away her anxiety and replace it with something more pleasant. His words had been doing so even before she met him, but that was something she still wasn't ready to share with him yet. It would give him far more incentive to tease her than he had already. She turned to face him; his eyes were a warm summer blue and still held a bit of sleep. She reached up to lightly trace his strong jaw with her finger, beckoning him closer, and leaned in to place a soft kiss upon his lips. He responded in kind, but he must have felt that something was still off, because he then asked, "What?"

She bit her lip, wondering how this man knew her probably better than she knew herself. Her fingers once again found her scar. "I just wish that I didn't always have this reminder staring at me every time I look in the mirror."

He took her hand away and replaced it with his own, resting it just below her breast. She always marveled at how much of her stomach his hand seemed to cover.

"You know, there is something beautiful about scars," he said, gently tracing hers with his thumb and watching the goosebumps rise along its path. "It means the hurt is over; the wound is healed. Now all you have to do is accept its existence. That bullet didn't take you, Kate. You're still here. And the strength that was required for you to get here took a lot of courage. This scar is proof of that."

He leaned his head down to gently kiss the mark – his way of showing her that he loves and accepts every bit of her. Now it was her turn.

She gave him a half smile.

"I know it isn't going to be easy," he continued.

And once again, he read her like an open book.

"But you will never be alone if you don't want to be. I will always be around to help… whether you like it or not." He lightly tickled her ribs, making her squirm and elicit a shriek of surprise.

"That is _not_ helping!" She slapped his hands away, which only made him intensify his attack. She then led an attack of her own and they were soon tangling themselves within the bed sheets. She was grateful no one was home to hear her – and Castle's – girlish squeals.

When they finally settled, and Kate had added yet another victory to her extensive list, her thoughts drifted back to her scars once again. A breathy sigh escaped before she could stop it.

He pulled her close to him and kissed her forehead. "They only have an influence over you if you give it to them," he said, his voice sounding sleepy.

"How do you always know what to say?" she asked in wonder.

"It's a gift," he said, shrugging a shoulder. She playfully hit him on the arm and then snuggled into his chest. His arms drew around her, hugging her close. After awhile, she soon heard his breathing slow and knew he had drifted off to sleep again. She smiled. It _was_ far too early for him to be awake.

She lay there watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, thinking over his words and trying her best to see herself through his eyes: a woman whose strength was not measured physically, but by the courage to overcome life's little obstacles that help to build one's character.

She constantly made it a point to be strong – for her team, for herself. But on the rare occasions when she did fall, she was glad he was always there to catch her.

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><p>I wrote most of this way before "Kill Shot" and marveled at how much some of the thoughts I wrote for Kate could apply to the scene where she examines her scar in the mirror. I only wish I could have published it before that episode aired, but I had forgotten that I began to write this and then just recently found it while I was going through my documents. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading! :)<p> 


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